Overboard
by mynightshining
Summary: The details are irrelevant. Not to Kagome they aren't. Especially when it involved being stuck on a rowboat all night, in the middle of a lake, with no paddle, and only a perverted monk as company


**Author's Notes: **This is a request!fic for Ayrith, also known as insanelypoetic on LJ. She's an amazing writer so go check out her stuff if you haven't already.

Prompts: fingertips, vapor, taste, frost (I used two of the four, one was COMPLETELY unintentional. I'll let you guess which one.)

I always say this but never really do it. This time, this time I mean it, maybe. I MIGHT (…will?…) write a companion piece to this, shorter, though (possibly?) for Inuyasha and Sango, because their absence should be explained.

Please review, they make me a very happy writer.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Inuyasha

**Summary:** Kagome knew Miroku well enough to know he was lying, and suddenly she didn't feel so safe anymore. There was another silence, tense this time, as Kagome tried not to think about drowning and being groped at the same time.

**Rating:** PG(13)

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**Overboard**

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Well… This was new.

And entirely unpredictable, Kagome chanted over and over.

"Hag," Kagome hissed none too nicely towards the distant shore.

"I believe, for once, we are in complete agreement, Kagome-sama."

She shot a withering glare across the extremely short distance in her companion's general direction. In the night it was hard to tell where he left off and the lake began.

"This _is _your fault, you know. If you hadn't--"

"Do not blame the innocent, Kagome-sama. That bent, old crone would've shoved us off with, or without, my supposed involvement." Her companion paused. "That _gleam_ in her eyes--"

"Eye. One eye. It's glass; that's why it 'gleamed'"

"The details are irrelevant."

"Not to me, they aren't!" Especially when it involved being stuck on a row-boat all night, in the middle of a lake, with no paddle, and only a perverted monk as company.

Kagome huffed, crossing her arms to emphasize her irritation.

The soft rhythmic thump of water against the warped and rickety wood did nothing to sooth her blazing anger, and the gentle rocking left her more nauseated than calm. Her companion, however, seemed as relaxed as relaxed can be, and Kagome hated him for it. Then again, _he_ wasn't on his guard, waiting to see if he'd be taken advantage of in this (perfectly, if she wanted to get technical, but that was way too dangerous to contemplate at the moment) _horridly _executed scenario.

If she squinted, she could, just barely, make out the outline of his body, reclined against the boat's bow, arms pillowing his head as he gazed at the stars--which were unusually bright due to the absent moon--his feet resting on the little wooden slat Kagome had claimed as her own. He certainly seemed to be right at home.

How could he be so-so-so _calm_ about it? They had been tricked! _Miroku_, of all people, was tricked by a withered, ancient hag, who obviously had nothing better to do than trap innocent females with obviously less-than moral males--Kagome noted that was probably why he was so calm. Shooting him another glare--which he probably wouldn't have seen anyway (but it's the thought that counts, right?)--she pulled her skirt down the few centimeters the fabric would allow, thinking she should really invest in pants or at least shorts, before giving up and doubling over, head resting on her knees.

The silence was getting to her, as well as the lake's chronic _whoosh_ing.

Kagome huffed again, louder than before, and when it failed to get his attention she added a little kick of her leg. And when _that_ failed to get his attention she grabbed his feet--ignoring his loud outburst, and sudden sway of the boat--and threw them off her wooden slat. After all, it was the only thing on this boat that was hers, it wouldn't do to have (a man, really, but Kagome didn't dwell too much on that fact very often because it lead to flushed cheeks and naughty, naughty thoughts) a _boy _think he had part of the claim.

"What was that for?" Miroku snapped, voice a tad higher than normal, legs now braced against the bottom of the boat. Kagome imagined his knuckles turning white as he held on for dear life.

"I'm bored."

There was silence on his part, but Kagome could sense his poorly veiled anger and it made her happy. Abruptly, she was reminded of the old adage, Misery loves company.

"And you're bothering me." She added for good measure.

"How? Pray, tell."

"_How_?" Kagome exclaimed, with a pinch of malice, to spice things up. "How can you be so calm? You're sitting, no, _laying_ there as if you haven't a care in the world! We're stuck on a lake! A HUGE lake! Have you even thought of how we're going to get back to shore? WE HAVE NO PADDLES!" She stamped her foot, and the boat careened again.

"Stop _doing _that!"

"No!"

She rocked the boat again emphasizing her childish response.

"Kagome…" There was something in the way his voice caught that grabbed her attention. It was a plea, an effective one at that, too, very effective considering he didn't actually say _please_. She stopped immediately.

"Are you…" She paused, wondering if her assumption was correct. "Are you scared?"

There was a slight hesitation, she could tell. Then, "No."

Kagome knew Miroku well enough to know he was lying. And suddenly she didn't feel so safe anymore, not that she felt very safe in the first place, but her initial fears from hours earlier resurfaced. The boat wasn't that… magnificent… to begin with. It was old, real _old, _and looked as if just touching it would shatter it to pieces.

There was another silence, tense this time, as Kagome tried not to think about drowning and being groped at the same time.

"Why?"

Miroku cleared his throat, and Kagome could somewhat see him fidgeting.

"I don't like dark water."

Kagome laughed. Laughed hard. That was single most absurd thing she'd ever heard him say. Because, honestly, that was more along the lines of Eri hurling excuses as to why they shouldn't go to the new horror flick that just premiered.

"It's not funny."

Her laughter died abruptly. He was so guarded, so… serious.

"I-I'm sorr--"

"Don't be. You didn't know."

"Is this--Is this a new thing?

"Fairly," Miroku supplied, voice still guarded. He failed to elaborate further, though.

So, his calm demeanor was all an act, as per usual, and Kagome wondered if he ever truly expressed his feelings.

"That's depressing." It was a horrid attempt to lighten the mood, but she heard a faint snort from the other end of the small boat, so it must have accomplished something.

Kagome shifted, bumping knees with Miroku. She contemplated whether to lean forward or not, wondering if she did, would she give him the wrong impression? But it was dark, and it wasn't like he could see much better than her anyway, so she might as well make herself comfortable. Resting her head against her knee (and most definitely on Miroku's as well, but she ignored that fact), she sighed.

Kagome was bored, and she felt it necessary to enlighten Miroku of that fact yet again.

"So?"

"So," She exclaimed shooting up to be on the same level with the stupid boy. "I don't know! _Do_ something!"

And he did.

His lips were softer than Inuyasha's, she noted off-handedly.

And how did he manage to find her lips so easily in the dark?

It was at that point Kagome realized Miroku was _kissing_ her, and, to her astonishment, she was more worried about what to do with her hands, which were currently grasping his elbows, than any sort of repercussions.

Miroku's hands rested firmly on either side of her face, fingers threaded through her hair, preemptively restraining any attempt to pull away. Kagome, who was now nothing more than malleable clay in an artist's dexterous hands, reveled in the constant pressure of his lips. Her hands traveled up his arms, feeling every muscle with her fingertips, as she hesitantly pressed back. Miroku's deep, pleased moan was more than Kagome could've ever asked for.

As his hands tangled in her hair, his lips parted, dragging something soft and wet along her bottom lip. The wave of pleasure that shot through her was wholly unexpected.

So unexpected, in fact, that she pulled away startled, hands covering her now wet lips.

"Was tha--" Her voice was really high. Like, _really_ high. Like, prepubescent-boy-in-choir high. Oh, and breathy too.

"Was that--" Kagome started again, desperately trying to not sound flustered. It wasn't helping that she could hear (and feel) him chuckling slightly.

Third time's the charm.

"Was that your… tongue?"

"Yes," he said, still laughing.

"Hm."

"Your eyes are really wide."

"Mm-hm."

It hadn't really been _that_ bad, Kagome admitted. It had, after all, felt very… sinful, almost, but in a _good_ way. Pleasurable. And wet. But that was a given, because it was his tongue and it'd be more awkward if his tongue was dry, like sandpaper. Behind the shelter of her hands she licked her lips. He tasted like… Well, she really didn't know what he tasted like, but she did know she wanted to find out.

Miroku was so close to her now, with an extremely amused look lightening his features. Briefly, she wondered if he had planned this from that fateful moment their boat slowly but surely drifted off into the darkness, the withered devil incarnate waving goodbye. That thought vanished the moment he grabbed her hands, which were still covering her mouth, and pulled them away. He laughed again, and Kagome couldn't bring herself to look away from his magnetic lips.

He kissed her then, immediately taking advantage of her surprised gasp and swept his tongue along her parted lips. A moan escaped her and she felt her cheeks redden from embarrassment and pleasure. His tongue grazed hers, and Kagome, on fire from the inside out, let all her conscious thoughts fall like sand into the wind.

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"Excellent," Shippou chuckled mischievously in the early morning mist. Kirara chirped in agreement. They watched with barely concealed excitement as the tiny rowboat, carrying two very randy humans, moored itself in the muddy banks not too far from where they stood.

The two humans, however, failed to acknowledge this small change in their vessel's whereabouts, as they were currently attempting to see how close they could get on a little wooden slat, mouths locked in a continuous embrace.

Rubbing his hands together in proud accomplishment, Shippou turned his back on his fellow travelers in search of an Inu-hanyou and demon slayer he stuck in a tree.


End file.
